


Worth It

by The_Baking_Chat



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Feels, I'm Sorry, RIP ML Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 01:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6402472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Baking_Chat/pseuds/The_Baking_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words are said. An akuma is created. It all goes downhill from there.</p>
<p>One-Shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> So... yay! This is actually long enough to be considered a one-shot! I'm finally out of drabble-land.
> 
> Also... I'm really sorry for this.  
> I'm in mourning.  
> RIP ML Season 1. I am not taking this hiatus well.  
> RIP PhantomPierce-Okamoto. She is not taking it well either.
> 
> I apologize for any feels you may experience during or after reading this fic.
> 
> ENJOY. I don't own ML.

_“…during the Battle of Thermopylae, 300 Spartans held off thousands of Persians, giving Athens the time to…”_

 

In Paris, during the month of May, it is easy for classrooms to heat up. It is easy for sweaty collège students to grow bored. This Thursday was no exception.

 

As Ms. Bustier droned on about Greek history, she quickly realized that she was losing students. One by one, they would turn to talk to their friends, or lay their heads on the desks. Either way, they were ignoring her.

 

“Alright!” She shouted, startling some of the students in the first row, “Change of plans. I realize that you’re all pretty bored…”

 

There was a murmur of agreement.

 

“…so I’m going to make this personal. Spartan mothers and wives who didn’t go to war told their sons and husbands to ‘come back with their shield or on it.’ There was no honor in surrender - Spartan soldiers were willing to die to protect Greece.”

 

“So tell me, are you anything like the Spartans? Is there something you believe in so strongly you would be willing to die for it?”

 

The students perked up. Alya raised her hand.

 

“I would rather die than lie to my followers. I’ve sworn that the LadyBlog always tells the truth.”

 

Ms. Bustier smiled, happy that someone was finally participating. She didn’t notice the small raven-haired girl next to Alya as she grimaced and looked away.

 

“I would rather die than be poor.” A haughty voice sang from the corner. A certain blonde flipped her hair as she spoke. “Unlike, I don’t know… Marinette?”

 

“Well, I’d rather die than be you!” Marinette retorted from across the room.

 

_‘This may be getting out of hand…’_

 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

 

_It happened almost in slow motion._

 

_She watched him cross the street, a smile in his eyes. She watched the car come around the bend. She froze, knowing what was coming but unable to take action. She heard the squeak of tires as the driver slammed on the brakes. She heard a horrible crunch and watched his body hit the windshield. She watched him plummet to the ground._

 

_She watched as everything that mattered to her shattered like the glass on the pavement. It was all gone in a flash._

 

_And all she could do was scream._

 

 

She barely noticed the black butterfly.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

 

Adrien was stumped. 

 

After the fight, Ms. Bustier had decided to make them write an essay on the subject for homework.

 

And he couldn’t think of _anything_.

 

He was never really allowed to have his own opinions on anything, so it was hard to suddenly think of something he would _die_ for. All he had written was his name and the date.

 

 

“Dude… are you okay? You’re kind of…groaning.” Nino’s voice penetrated his thoughts, quietly crackling out of the phone.

 

Adrien turned his phone on speaker, his head in his hands. “I can’t think of ANYTHING to write.”

 

“Nothing? Really? Bro… you’re screwed.”

 

“Help me! Please!” he clasped his hands in a begging motion.

 

“Sorry. No can do. I’ve got to—OH SHIT!”

 

“Nino! What happened?” Adrien stood up out of instinct, his eyes already searching for Plagg.

 

“—kuma—Eleventh Arrond—dybug—BUS! SHI—” 

 

Static. 

 

It wouldn’t have mattered anyways. Nobody was listening. Adrien’s room was empty, his window ajar.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

 

Ladybug thought she’d seen everything, but there was no preparing her for this.

 

At first glance, the woman seemed normal. She wore a long white dress decorated with sparkling jewels. Her blonde hair flowed down her back in waves, and atop her head sat a white veil.

 

Then she turned around.

 

The top of her dress was splattered with blood. The sparkling jewels weren’t gems at all, but shards of broken glass. Her blue eyes were cold and emotionless.

 

Behind her was the body of a man, if you could call it a man anymore. At this point, it didn’t even look human.

 

Ladybug covered her mouth and looked away. The sight was horrific, far beyond what any other akuma had done in the past.

 

“Miss…Why…” Ladybug held back a gag. “Why would you do this?”

 

“It’s no less than what he did to my fiancé,” The woman replied with a sadistic smile. “And call me Banshee.”

 

“What happened…Banshee?” The heroine sounded small. Scared.

 

“It doesn’t matter.” The smile was gone. “I got what I wanted. Now I have to get what _he_ wants.”

 

Ladybug gulped. “Hawkmoth?”

 

A slow nod. “Exactly.”

 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

 

There was a piercing shriek, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Chat Noir could only watch in stunned silence as the buildings around him crumpled from the noise. He picked up his pace, bounding across the Parisian rooftops at an unimaginable speed.

 

He got there just in time.

 

Ladybug knelt in the road, her hands covering her ears as her face contorted in pain. The source of the noise stood over her, preparing to let loose another destructive cry.

 

Chat didn’t hesitate.

 

_——————————————————————————————————————————-_

 

_It happened almost in slow motion._

 

_She heard the Banshee’s piercing scream and the sound of shattering windows. She watched the buildings around her collapse. She heard the shards of glass whistle through the air. She froze, knowing what was coming but unable to take action. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for the end._

 

_She heard a cry, then the sound of glass cutting through skin._

 

_She heard a thud at her feet._

 

 

Ladybug opened her eyes and found herself, miraculously, unharmed. At least, that was what she thought until she saw the boy at her feet. Chat Noir lay on his side, glass imbedded in his back.

 

There was a series of coughs, and the boy stirred. “Are… are you okay, My Lady?” Blood trickled out of his mouth.

 

“You, you…” Ladybug took in the sight. “You stupid cat! Why did you do that?”

 

She knelt down, desperately trying to think of something - anything - that could be of use. “It-it’s going to be okay. W-we just need to put pressure on the wounds. We just need to keep you alive until help gets here. That’s it.”

 

“Don’t downplay the damage for me, My Lady.” Another series of coughs. Blood splattered on the pavement. A pool of red grew larger.

 

“It’s not for your sake, kitty.” His body blurred as her eyes filled with tears. 

 

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of red hair. She heard a groan as Alya popped her head up from behind a mailbox, holding her phone. 

 

Ladybug turned towards her. _“What the hell are you doing? Get help! Can’t you see my partner is hurt? Someone save him! Please!”_ Her tears joined the blood in the road.

 

Shocked, Alya ran off, leaving the two heroes alone. 

 

Banshee was nowhere to be found. In her place stood a young woman. She knelt by the mangled body in the street, her eyes wide in horror.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

 

_Chat Noir had watched the exchange with wide eyes. Even in his pain-drunken state, he could hear the way Ladybug’s voice had cracked when she cried for help. He could hear the slow_ plop _of her tears in the street._

 

_It was weird, the way his mind immediately drifted back to class earlier that afternoon. Ms. Bustier’s voice was like a broken record, repeating the same words over and over again. “…something you believe in so strongly, you would be willing to die for it…”_

 

_And it hit him. The reason why he couldn’t think of anything in class. The something wasn’t a some_ thing _at all… It was a some_ one _._

 

 

“It-It’s you.” He croaked. 

 

Ladybug looked down at him, confused. “What?”

 

“It-It’s you,” he repeated, “You’re the thing worth dying for, My Lady.”

 

“ _Chaton_ …”

 

He continued. “It was you all along. Chronogirl, Dislocoeur… All of them. I would sac—”

 

“Please, _Chaton_! Stop talking like that! I’m not worth dying for! Let me be worth living for!” Her eyes were wide, her hands shaking. 

 

_‘Even in her weakness she’s strong. Her words were a cry for help, yes, but they were also a sign of power. Her begging was an order, her wish was a command.’_

 

Chat smiled at the thought, and Ladybug moved his head to her lap. His uniform was sticky.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

 

_It happened too fast._

 

_She saw him smile up at her. She felt his rattling breaths and his violent coughs. She felt the warmth of his blood on her uniform. She felt hot tears roll down her cheeks._

 

_She felt his heartbeat weaken._

 

_She watched the light fade from his eyes._

 

_She moved his head off her lap. She layered her hands, one on top of the other. She placed them over his chest. She pressed down. She released. She did it again._

 

_And again._

 

_And again._

 

_“Stay with me, Chaton.” Her voice was soft, just above a whisper. “You can’t die. You can’t. I need you. Please. You’re my best friend, my partner. It can’t just END like this! Please, Chat!”_

 

_She felt the softness of his lips. She tasted the metallic liquid in his mouth. She saw his chest rise. She shielded her eyes from the light as his transformation released._

 

_Suddenly, it wasn’t Chat Noir she was trying to resuscitate._

 

_She ignored the black Kwami telling her to stop. She ignored Tikki’s voice in her ear. She pressed down on his chest. She released. She did it again._

 

_And again._

 

_And again._

 

 

When help finally arrived, they expected to find Ladybug and an injured Chat Noir. 

 

Instead, they found Marinette Dupain-Cheng clutching Adrien Agreste’s dead body, her eyes red and puffy from crying. 

 

 

She kept saying something about an essay, a cat, and not being worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again... I apologize for all the things I made these children (and you) go through.
> 
> I love parallels. Can you tell?
> 
> Anyways, comments and kudos are appreciated. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.


End file.
